


Deeper Tombs and Scarier Horrors: A Memoir

by kappa77



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Book Signings, Crack, Gen, I have no excuse for this shit, Inspired by the Tomb of Horrors, Read notes for more info, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kappa77/pseuds/kappa77
Summary: Ballast McGee may be Markus' rival for all time, but that didn't mean he couldn't go to his midnight release of his newest book, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> You won't get this unless you've watched [The Tomb of Horrors Team B perspective ](https://www.twitch.tv/videos/98201514?sr=a) (which I'd suggest watching anyway. its great)
> 
> But yeah, this fic is just playing off the fact that Ballast McGee is an actual character in that stream.

Ashe can count on one hand how many times she’s seen Markus get up early. She doesn’t need any fingers because he never gets up earlier than needed. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he and Kyr would stay up late at night, inventing and exploding shit from dusk till dawn.

So it was a surprise when Ashe was woken from her meditation by Markus tripping out of the bar, hurriedly putting on a shoe. His cape was in disarray, a weird image on the usually immaculate Markus Velafi™.

“Markus?” She coughed, her voice scratchy for a moment.

He jumped, head whipping to see Ashe in her tree. His shoulders relaxed when he saw it was her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

Ashe stared at him. “I _sleep_ here. What are _you_ doing up at this hour?”

He straightened himself out, dusting himself off of the non-existent dust that was on his pants. “I… I am going to a book signing.”

Ashe frowned. “Another one for Aesling, the Neck Stabber?”

“No, no, no… although we may be in need of an anniversary tour…” A groan from Ashe broke his train of thought. “Oh, right. I’m, um… I’m going to someone else’s book signing.”

“Oh.” She immediately wiped the dissatisfaction off her face. “An author friend of yours?”

“… Yeah, you could say that.”

She nodded, too tired and wanting to go back to meditating to hear the hesitancy in his voice. “Well, have fun, try not to be tempted to cut through the Prison of Lights.”

He laughed. “Oh trust me, I wouldn’t dream of going through there alone.”

\---

Markus fell to his knees on the soft grass, panting, the roar of the monster lingering behind him.

“Okay… now I’m really never going to go through the Prison of Lights alone again,” he muttered to himself.

Picking himself off, he dusted himself off before making his way to the tavern which was holding this special book signing. The _author_ , if Markus could even call him that, had somehow managed to get a book signing tour of the Free Isles. Why couldn’t he ever get that!? His books were far better! He made a mental note to talk to his agent as he walked into the tavern.

The place was nearly normal, with normal bar patrons milling around and soft music played by a spirit folk with an instrument Markus had never seen before. However, unlike usual, a corner of the place was taken over by an asshole in a cowboy hat.

A familiar face sat at the table, which had a nice purple table cloth covering it. A large cardboard cutout with five people smiling, with the main character, in the middle, stood to the side. The table was surrounded by copies of the book, _Deeper Tombs and Scarier Horrors: A Memoir._ The cover was of a green demon head with a huge mouth open wide, with dripping red letters showing the title and the author.

Ballast Fucking McGee.

 “Ah, Markus Velafi-”

“Shut up and take my money,” Markus said with a scowl, thrusting the bills in his adversary’s face. The other man chuckled, taking it.

“Alright, alright, I see.” He handed the money to someone else working the register then grabbed a book and purple marker. “What should I write in here, girl?”

“Fuck you.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalrighty.” Ballast took his time writing “To My Biggest Fan, Fuck you. – Ballast McGee.” If Markus wasn’t so angry, he would be impressed with the flowing cursive and large, looping letters Ballast used, making it look almost like the calligraphy he’d seen on his travels.

Ballast handed him the book with a smirk. “Happy reading!”

“Oh, I won’t enjoy it.” Markus took the book from his hands, moving over to the side and sitting down, right in front of the cut out before cracking open the book.

Ballast just turned to face the next person in line, putting on his signature smirk and getting out his pen. He had gotten through three more people when Markus burst out shouting.

“My god, you have some nerve! Now you’re copying my life as well!”

For once, in the entire existence Markus had known Ballast, the smirk was gone and he looked confused.

“But…girl… it’s true.”

Markus stared at him, fingernails starting to leave indents in the pages with how hard he was gripping it. “You have a dangerous underground catacomb, a party of 5, and a fucking Tiefling.”

Ballast continued the confused stare. “… But it is true.”

“THIS IS JUST THE PRISON OF LIGHTS!” Some people on line and in the bar stared at him as he threw up his hands in the air, the book falling ungracefully into his lap, but he didn’t care. Ballast had gotten under his skin one too many times, but this was the last straw.

Ballast just looked at him. “Girl, I have no idea what that is. The Tomb of Horrors is real.”

Markus frowned before going back to reading. The author went back to signing and chatting with his fans, getting in a couple more autographs before he heard Markus grumbling. Pages flipped between his fingers as he skimmed the book, brows furrowing more and more as he read.

“None of this could’ve happened!” he exclaimed. “How could this have happened to you?”

Ballast shrugged this time keeping the smirk. “Well, all I know is it’s true. That’s why it’s called a memoir, girl.”

Markus made like he didn’t hear that. “But these characters!”

“These people are real-”

“Who the fuck would call someone Vary Dashing? A bad author, that’s who.”

“Forsooth! Hark! And Verily! I hear someone speaking ill of us!”

Markus looked up, as did Ballast, and as his smirk grew, the tiefling’s jaw dropped open.

Four people, a tiefling, a gruff looking middle-aged man, a man in a turban and… Markus wasn’t even sure who the person who had just spoken was, all stood in the doorway of the tavern. Markus looked behind him, at the cardboard cutout, back at the people in the door, cutout, door, cutout, door-

Ballast’s smirk grew. “Ah, I see you all have joined me for my book tour!”

The tiefling spoke up. “Yeah, well, after we found out you survived, we thought it would be the least we could do to visit you and see what you wrote about us.”

The author swept his hands in a gesture at the table. “Well step right up, ladies, it’d be my pleasure to sign your books.”

The group stepped forward, cutting the line, and ignoring the wide-eyed looks at the people who realized who they were.

The middle-aged man did notice Markus sitting on the floor.

“Hey, Jeremy!” The tiefling turned to look at the man and Markus. “Doesn’t he look a bit like you?”

The tiefling looked at Markus with curious eyes. “Well… I guess. What are you doing on the floor either way?”

Markus, making an executive decision, closed his mouth, stood up, and walked out.

From behind him, he tried to ignore Ballast’s “Enjoy the book, Markus!”

“Fucking Ballast.”

Maybe he did need another trip through the Prison of Lights to clear his mind


End file.
